Empire of Dust
by Lstern
Summary: Endgame never happened. Chakotay reveals his relationship with Seven to Janeway.


Janeway peered blearily at Chakotay over the array of chess pieces.  He smiled and reached forward, deftly sweeping her knight off the board.  "I have a detox if you want it."

 "No, no," she waved him off, blinking at the board, trying to figure out just when this particular arrangement of pieces had come about.  "I drink seldom enough, I might as well enjoy—you know, Chakotay, I swear you move these things when I'm not here!"

"Don't flatter yourself.  You're easy enough to beat without cheating."

She scowled at him.  "Of course I am.  My only teacher has been _you._"

"I offered to teach you strategies--"

"I told you that would be confusing.  I have a hard enough time keeping track of what moves where as it is…"  The board continued to waver before her vision; Kathryn tried to shake the confusion out of her head.  "You know—I'm thinking this isn't a game to play drunk."

"It does make you more unpredictable than usual," Chakotay admitted, neatly taking her queen with his bishop.  Janeway winced; she hadn't seen that coming.  "There's a challenge in itself, facing an opponent utterly lacking a plan."  He responded to her next move with a quick one of his own.  "Check."

"Some challenge."  Janeway shook her head.  "I might as well give up now."

"You could still win," he replied mildly, his eyes quickly sweeping over the board.  "I see openings."

"If you see them, you know how to counter them.  Besides, I haven't the slightest clue what they are."

Chakotay sat back in his chair, regarding her evenly.  "I'm still surprised you went all these years without learning how to play chess."

"My father tried to teach me.  So did Mark.  But I had enough of traditionalism in my life as things were without adding antiquated games to the mix."

He smiled, rose to his feet.  "We can finish this another time."

"Or we can play pool next time," she suggested hopefully  "I really do miss beating you in _something_."

"Haven't you had enough of wiping the floor with me?"  His tone was slightly harsh.

Janeway's airiness dissolved at the sudden anger in his tone.  She tried to catch the expression on his face, but he'd already turned away from her, bending down to pick up his discarded uniform jacket from the floor.

Kathryn considered the situation carefully.  She'd actually come here to discuss Chakotay's conduct at the St. Patrick's Day celebration tonight.  Her first officer was a mild-mannered man, and she'd been startled at just how belligerent he'd grown after a few drinks.  She'd considered ordering him to leave before he embarrassed himself further, but he'd luckily spared her that unpleasant prospect by departing early.

She'd waited a half hour before marching into his quarters, braced for an angry drunk.  Instead the door had parted to reveal her sober, rational first officer.  It had been enough to throw her purpose for coming here from her mind.  Now she remembered it.

"I think I'll have that detox after all, Chakotay."

"Suit yourself."

He sent her only a cursory glance before digging the hypospray out of his pocket and tossing it her way.  It landed in her lap.  As she injected herself, her eyes followed his movements about the room.  The image slowly focused, grew sharper, and the constant spinning sensation slowed, then steadied.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked softly.

Chakotay's arms folded over his broad chest, his eyes on her attentive and wary.  He was silent for a long, thoughtful moment, watching her with careful consideration.  Then,  "I've become involved with one of the crew."

"I see," Janeway said, nodding mechanically.  "And why is this a problem?"

"Because I hate having to keep this a secret," he said, voice lined with frustration,  "but I haven't been sure how to broach this with you."

Kathryn was confused.  It had been a long time since they'd considered each other's feelings when it came to romantic liaisons.  "Chakotay, you don't owe me any explanation—"

"In this case, I do."  His voice was firm, and he crossed the room to lower his large body into the chair across from hers.  "It's Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine?" Kathryn echoed incredulously.  Was he joking?    "Are you serious?  You're—"  her retort died on her lips as her mind got around to the image.  "You're old enough to be her father," she said at last.

"I knew you'd react like this," Chakotay's voice held a note of anger.

"You're a 48-year old man!  She has the life experience of an adolescent.  Of course I was going to react like this!"  She rose to her feet to stare at him accusingly.  "She's like a daughter to me."

"But she's not a child," he retorted.  "_She_ approached _me,_ Kathryn.  She's knows her own mind…"

"She's not ready—"

"It's not for _you_ to say!"  He rose to his feet as well, glaring down at her.  "You say you respect her as an individual—well respect this.  She made the decision, and it's between the two of us.  I care about her, Kathryn.  And she cares about me."

"Then why didn't she come to tell me this?"  Janeway demanded harshly.  "If this has all been of her own doing—"

"Maybe she didn't think _you'd _be able to handle this," Chakotay said in irritation.

Janeway turned away quickly before he could see he'd drawn blood.  She watched the stars creep by, suddenly hating Chakotay and Seven both.

"And what about you, Chakotay?" she said at last, when she could trust herself to speak.  Her voice sounded impressively cold to her own ears.  "You were ready to distrust her at every turn just a few weeks ago, and now, what?"  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  "You're infatuated?"  She studied his face more intently, and then with a note of mockery,  "_In love?_"

Chakotay's held her gaze evenly, not rising to the bait.

Kathryn shook her head, turning back away from him, her mind still trying to get around to the idea of Seven in a serious relationship, much less Seven in a relationship with Chakotay.  "She never struck me as your type."

"And what is my type?" Chakotay asked in a low, angry voice as Kathryn turned to look at him.  "Spiteful, selfish, and manipulative just like—"

"Seska?" she suggested lightly.

Though her tone was mild, her blue eyes glinted with a lethal challenge, daring him to say it.

'_Just like you.'_

That one battle he had never dared fight suddenly loomed before him.  Kathryn was not a subtle person; anger, compassion, humor-- she always expressed herself in the most dramatic manner available.  She swaggered, she smirked, she shouted.  She would not be disregarded or ignored.  In all manner she seemed predictable.  

Until he stepped too close.  The moment he presumed upon that illusion of mutual understanding, she turned the other face upon him, that darkness that had slowly grown over the last seven years.  There was never any true emotion in an exchange with Kathryn, at least not on her part.  One mask or another always remained, welded to her expression even in the most intimate moments.

And now she was daring him to take it off.

For a long moment Chakotay considered it, looming on the edge of this dark unknown.  The prospect was intriguing.  Intriguing and terrifying.  One step forward and there was no going back.  Was he prepared for that?   Was she?

"Just like Seska," Chakotay agreed softly.

An unfriendly smile crossed her lips at his surrender.  Yet even as she felt the flush of victory, she could not ignore the disappointment that rendered it meaningless.

She'd won the argument.  

Kathryn went to her quarters, ordered coffee, buried herself in work.  Her mind flashed back to the scene every so often, and she reassured herself that she had the upper hand.  She had won.

Yet somehow, she couldn't shake the disquieting feeling she'd lost the only thing that  was important.  She wanted to take her words back.  She wanted to take the last seven years back.

But it was simply too late.


End file.
